


Connect

by virdant



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Swimming, M/M, Misunderstandings, Swimming, medley relays as a metaphor for friendship (and love)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 07:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virdant/pseuds/virdant
Summary: “No. That’s it,” Sebastian declared. “That’s how we’ll get Blaine to get back. We’ll defeat McKinley and prove that we’re better than them. There’s no way that Blaine’s going to transfer to a lousy swim team with no chance of making Nationals.”Trent pointed out, “I’m pretty sure he transferred to McKinley because of Kurt, and not because of McKinley’s Nationals prospects.”“Shut up, Trent,” Sebastian said absently. “Okay,” he said to Wes. “Sign me up. How is this going to work?”Sebastian returns from Paris, only to find that Blaine's gotten seduced to the McKinley swim team. Sebastian comes up with a daring solution: beat McKinley in the annual Columbus Summer Swim Tournament and win Blaine back to Dalton.Written for Seblaine Week 2018 - Free Day, which I have helpfully interpreted as a "Free, Iwatobi Swim Club" Day. You're welcome.





	Connect

**Author's Note:**

> Me: here's the prompts for this year's seblaine week, what should I write first?  
> Mika: Free day, does that mean FREE, IWATOBI SWIM CLUB AU

If there was one scent that Sebastian could place in his sleep, it was chlorine from a school pool in the heat of summer. He stood at the edge the Dalton swimming pool and inhaled, deeply. Sure enough, it was the height of summer, and the Dalton pool was fine as far as pools went, but it was still a school pool with dozens of bodies passing through at any given time.

“Sebastian!”

Sebastian opened his eyes. “Hey guys.”

“When did you get back?” Trent asked.

“ _Why_ did you come back?” Thad muttered good-naturedly.

“How did you come back,” Nick began, only to be elbowed by Jeff. 

“By plane and car,” Sebastian replied to Nick. “Because dear old Dad demanded a summer visit,” to Thad, and “Just yesterday,” to Trent. 

“How was Paris?” Jeff asked. “Join any swim teams?”

“Sure.” Sebastian stretched his arms. “I joined my school swim team and made varsity.”

Thad smirked. “Good for you.” 

“But I’m back for the summer,” Sebastian reminded them. “And speaking of backsides—there’s one great ass that I’m not seeing.”

They exchanged looks.

“What’s with those looks? Where’s Blaine?”

“About that,” Nick began. “Some stuff’s happened while you were gone.”

* * *

This is how the story went.

Blaine had been a part of Dalton’s swim team. He had been a valuable member, and then one day, during a meet, he met a boy.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes.

The boy’s name was Kurt, and he swam for McKinley over in Lima. What happened next was pure sabotage. Kurt first transferred into Dalton, and then employed all of his wiles and seduced Blaine.

“What does he look like?” Sebastian asked.

“Why does that matter?” Trent demanded, peeved from being interrupted from his story.

“I want to know how hot the guy that Blaine decided to go for is,” Sebastian replied.

“Maybe if you got Facebook so you could keep in touch with us,” Thad groused. It was a familiar argument, and Sebastian rolled his eyes while Thad pulled out his phone and navigated to Blaine’s Facebook page.

“That’s what Blaine went for?” he asked after a while.

“I know,” Nick bemoaned. “Can you believe it? I’ve been only swimming freestyle in memory of Blaine since.”

“You like freestyle,” Jeff pointed out.

“I like backstroke more.”

“I’m trying to tell a story here,” Trent protested.

“By all means,” Sebastian waved a hand magnanimously. “Continue.”

Kurt, having accomplished in his goal of poaching one of Dalton’s top swimmers, promptly transferred back to McKinley. Blaine, responsible enough to not bail out on his team in the middle of the season, stuck it out for the rest of the school year. 

“We’re pretty sure he’s transferring to McKinley,” Nick said sadly.

“Well he isn’t participating in summer training camp,” Thad pointed out. “Kurt said something about wanting to spend the summer together, so Blaine’s spending time with the McKinley team.”

“Probably transferring,” Jeff concluded.

Sebastian arched an eyebrow. “Wow,” he finally concluded. “That’s some story.”

“It’s true!” Trent protested.

“Sure.” He patted Trent on the shoulder. “Now. How can I find Blaine?”

* * *

Blaine was at the Lima public pool. 

If there was anything worse than school swimming pools, it was a public pool. The chlorine practically emanated from the water in palpable waves. Sebastian eyed it balefully, before scanning the crowd.

“Well that’s an ass I recognize.”

The crowd turned to him, Blaine among them. “Sebastian?”

“Blaine Anderson. Glad to see you’re still sex on a stick.”

“What are you doing here?” He broke away, grabbing Sebastian by the forearm to drag him into the locker room. “I thought you were in Paris.”

“I was.” Sebastian eyed the floor, grungy even by locker room standards. “Is this hygienic?”

“What?” Blaine followed his gaze to the floor. “Oh. I wear flip flops.”

“So you do.” Blaine’s flip flops were in Dalton colors. “I’m here to bring you back to Dalton.”

Blaine took a deep breath. “Sebastian,” he said in exasperation.

“What?” Sebastian gestured to the peeling paint on the walls and the stained floors. “You can’t honestly say you’re picking this over me.”

“It’s not about the facilities,” Blaine hissed. “I can’t just abandon Kurt.”

“Oh, right.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Didn’t know you went for faces that gay.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t see it. That guy’s got an unfortunate case of gayface.”

“Sebastian,” he hissed. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you? You can’t honestly tell me you’d rather be in this dump over swimming at Dalton with me.”

Blaine bristled. “For your information,” he said, “Kurt is great. I don’t know what you’re up to—”

“Come back to Dalton.”

Blaine laughed, a sharp little sound. “You come here, insult my friend, insult _me_ , and you expect me to go swanning back to Dalton with you? You’re out of your mind.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Guess that’s a no.”

* * *

“I told you so.”

“Trent,” Sebastian said, from where he was floating in the pool. “I’m only going to say this once. Gloating is unbecoming and only I’m allowed to do it.”

Trent frowned. To Jeff, he said, “I did tell him so.”

“You did,” Jeff said. “Don’t be an ass, Sebastian.”

“Me?” Sebastian kicked himself upright, treading water so he could make eye contact and maintain it. 

“Yeah, telling Sebastian to not be an ass is a lost cause,” Thad agreed.

“What the hell,” Sebastian snapped. “What is this? Mutiny?”

“It can’t be mutiny if you weren’t in charge of anything in the first place,” Thad argued.

“I will drown you in this pool,” Sebastian declared. “Thad Harwood, you are dead.” He tried to dunk Thad, who in a surprising burst of immaturity, dunked him back. The murder attempt quickly turned into good natured splashing. Trent spluttered as he caught a mouthful of water and retreated to the edge of the pool. Nick managed to get in a good attack before being set upon by Sebastian and Jeff. Sebastian ducked to avoid Thad, to no avail, who dunked him viciously.

“Are you boys going to practice or what?” 

Sebastian emerged from where Thad had managed to pull him under, coughing. “Wes?”

Wes had his arms crossed and was frowning down at them. “You do know that this pool isn’t for your own personal use.”

“What? No welcome back?”

Wes rolled his eyes. “It’s good to see you again, Sebastian.” He continued, “If you aren’t going to practice, then get back to your dorms.”

“What is there to practice for?” Sebastian asked. “It’s not like school’s in session.”

“Some of us are signed up for the Columbus Summer Tournament,” Wes replied.

“Like you?”

“Yes,” he said. “And Trent. And Thad. And Nick. Which you would know if you actually checked the practice schedule posted outside.”

“Oops.” He shrugged unrepentantly. “Wait.” He turned to Thad and Nick. “You guys are signed up for the summer tournament?”

“Yeah,” Thad said. “First prize is two hundred bucks. And if you join we’ll have a fourth and we can enter the medley relay.”

“What about me?” Trent protested.

“Trent, you’re a long-distance swimmer,” Nick pointed out. “You don’t even want to do the medley relay.”

Trent shrugged easily.

Sebastian frowned. “Is Blaine competing?”

“Beats me,” Thad said.

“Yes,” Wes said at the same time.

Sebastian glanced at Wes, who stared steadily back. “I helped him file the paperwork to sign up McKinley for the medley relay.”

“Is he even allowed to do that?” Jeff asked. “I mean he hasn’t officially transferred to McKinley yet.”

“It’s not a school tournament,” Wes said. “It’s a community event. He’s allowed to sign up with any team he wants.”

“He’s definitely transferring,” Nick groaned.

“No. That’s it,” Sebastian declared. “That’s how we’ll get Blaine to get back. We’ll defeat McKinley and prove that we’re better than them. There’s no way that Blaine’s going to transfer to a lousy swim team with no chance of making Nationals.”

Trent pointed out, “I’m pretty sure he transferred to McKinley because of Kurt, and not because of McKinley’s Nationals prospects.”

“Shut up, Trent,” Sebastian said absently. “Okay,” he said to Wes. “Sign me up. How is this going to work?”

* * *

With a tournament coming up, Sebastian found his days increasingly occupied with swim practice. Coffee, already an integral part of his day, became even more important.

He getting coffee at the Lima Bean when he saw Blaine, navigating the crowd with eight coffee cups in tow.

“Blaine Anderson,” he drawled, pulling up to a stop before him.

Blaine frowned. “Sebastian.” He made to step around.

“Hey.” Sebastian put an arm out to stop him. “Com’on. You can’t blame me for being surprised that you went from Dalton to McKinley. Transferring’s a big deal.”

“I’m just spending the summer with them.” Blaine’s fingers curled around the cardboard drink holders. 

“And getting coffee for them,” Sebastian noted. “They not seeing your talent, Killer?”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “I offered. They’re busy practicing for the summer tournament.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian tilted his head in thought. “And why aren’t you practicing with them?”

Blaine shrugged. “I’m not competing.”

He frowned. “Wes said you submitted entry paperwork.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged again. “For Kurt. I’m not swimming.”

“What the hell.” Blaine tried to step aside and Sebastian snagged his arm. “Hey. Wait. You love swimming. You could swim circles around them.”

“You don’t know that. Kurt’s really talented.”

“I’ve swum with you since we were in diapers.” Sebastian drew back. “You can’t honestly tell me you’re fine with not swimming.”

“Maybe I am!” Blaine shook his head. “Anyways, you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m here, with Kurt and McKinley, and that’s that.” He stepped aside Sebastian, and this time Sebastian let him go.

“You can’t tell me that you think a boy like _that_ is more important than swimming.” 

Blaine drew short. He didn’t turn around. His voice was cold. “You haven’t been here for five years. People change, Sebastian.”

* * *

Wes found him drifting in the pool. “Heard you ran into Blaine today.”

Sebastian stared at the backstroke flags marking the ends of the pool. They were rainbow patterned for pride month—Trent had put them up and they had yet to replace them with the regular Dalton-colored ones. “How does news travel so fast in this godforsaken place?”

“The Dalton rumor mill is a finely tuned machine.” He sat on the edge of the pool, but didn’t slide in. “You want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to say?”

“Maybe that Blaine never swam for Dalton.”

Sebastian tensed and sank like a stone. He emerged, coughing out the water that he’d choked on. “What?”

Wes wasn’t smiling, but his mouth was curved at the edges in an expression that was almost wistful. “I thought you’d want to talk about that.”

“What do you mean he hasn’t swum at Dalton? There’s no way he wouldn’t have made the team.”

“He didn’t tryout.”

“Why not?”

Wes said, “Blaine told me in confidence.” He gazed up at the backstroke flags. “You know that he went to Edison first, right?”

“We haven’t talked in two years,” Sebastian said sharply.

“Yeah. He didn’t take you leaving that well.” Wes kicked small waves into the water. “Blaine got recruited as a freshman to Edison High.”

“Never heard of them.”

“They were building a swim team.” Wes didn’t stop looking at the flags. “It didn’t work out. Blaine left halfway.”

“And came to Dalton?”

“He started at Dalton the next school year.”

Sebastian said, slowly. “That’s half a year.”

“Yeah. He restarted as a freshman. He’s a year under you now.”

“I was held back a year when I went to Paris,” Sebastian replied, absently. “So what are you saying? That he didn’t tryout because he was a freshman again? There’s no way that he would have thought that’d matter.”

“Sebastian,” Wes said, carefully. “Blaine was on the team. He went to every single tournament. That’s how he met Kurt, you know. But he never swam. We had to sub him in, once, and he took to it like a fish in water. But he hasn’t gone into the water willingly since Edison.”

“Why would he do something like that?”

Wes didn’t say anything.

“I’m sure you think you’re being very mysterious.”

Wes shrugged. “I promised Blaine I wouldn’t tell anyone. That includes you.”

* * *

After Wes left, Sebastian continued floating in the water, long enough for Trent to find him and join him in the water. Trent swam lazy laps, not pushing himself, just keeping himself active and moving. After a few laps, Trent joined him in floating.

“So Blaine never swam for Dalton.”

“He swam once.”

“What did you do, tell him that there was a slot and watch him dive in?”

“Coach threatened to kick him off the team if he didn’t suck it up and go in.”

Sebastian snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah,” Trent agreed. “So do I. But I was there.”

“I don’t get _why_.” He huffed. “Blaine loves swimming. He signed us up for every single tournament when we were kids.”

“Yeah,” Trent agreed. “I remember.”

“So what the hell’s gotten into him?”

“A couple of metal pins, if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

Trent waited for Sebastian to emerge from where he had sunk into the pool.

“Okay,” Sebastian said. “This is ridiculous. You have to stop telling me surprising shit when I’m in the water.”

“You’re always in the water,” Trent pointed out.

“And secondly, what do you mean a couple of metal pins?”

Trent grimaced. “Oops? Can you forget I said that?”

“No!” Sebastian flung his arms in the air, sending droplets flying. The florescent lights cast rainbows in them. “What do you mean by that? Did Blaine get surgery?”

Trent grimaced. “Maybe?”

“Trent, I swear, don’t push me. Do you think I don’t have blackmail on you? Because I do, and I’m not afraid to use it if you don’t tell me what the hell happened to Blaine.”

“Blaine will kill me if I tell!”

“Blaine’s too nice to kill anybody,” Sebastian dismissed. “But I, on the other hand, absolutely will blackmail you and you know that I will. In fact, I think I’ll go find Coach now—”

“Okay, okay. Fine.” Trent sighed. “Blaine got beat up after swim practice when he was at Edison. They found out he was gay and said that he’d spread his gay to them. That’s why he left Edison and transferred to Dalton.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah. They’re assholes.”

“No, not them. I mean, yes, they’re assholes, and we should take a lead pipe to their knees—”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Trent said, alarmed.

“But did none of you guys think to tell me this when I got back? Fucking hell.”

“We thought Blaine would’ve told you!”

“I haven’t talked to Blaine in two years!”

“Oh.” Trent frowned. The only sound in the natatorium was the quiet splash of the water lapping the edges of the pool. Finally, he said, “Exactly two years ago?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I mean,” Trent pointed out, “Blaine started at Edison two years ago, and that’s when you stopped talking to him?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I didn’t know he picked Edison over Dalton, if that’s what you were asking.”

“Yeah.” Trent said. “I bet he knew you’d give him shit for it.”

“I’m not that bad.”

Trent shrugged. 

“I just told him that he’d be a fool to pick any school other than Dalton.”

“Yeah,” Trent said. “Bet he felt really bad after that shit happened when he was at Edison.”

“Are you saying that it’s _my_ fault that Blaine got beaten up?”

“No.” Trent sighed. “But you know Blaine. He probably didn’t want you to know.”

“Did he think I was going to _gloat_?”

Trent shrugged, again, and then shifted to float on his back. He kicked, slowly starting backstroke laps. Above him, the rainbow flags marked the edge of the pool. He stopped with enough distance to flip around and continue with his laps.

“I wouldn’t have,” Sebastian insisted.

“I know,” Trent said, not stopping in his laps. “But does Blaine?”

* * *

He staked out the Lima Bean for weeks, but if Blaine was going there, he was timing his visits for when Sebastian was in practice. Finally he convinced Wes to let him ditch (Wes scowled but allowed it since it was for Blaine), and headed to the Lima Bean early.

Blaine was there, gathering coffee.

“Hey,” Sebastian said. “Blaine.”

Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sebastian,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“If you’re just going to insult Kurt—”

“What, does that sound like something I would do?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian conceded. “I totally would. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Blaine leaned against the counter. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Talk.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, suddenly at a loss for words. He remembered the last conversation that he’d had with Blaine—two years ago, Blaine had called him. “I think I’m going to go to Edison, he’d said. They’re giving me a scholarship.”

“You’re kidding, right? You don’t need a scholarship,” Sebastian had replied.

“It’d be nice,” Blaine had said.

“You’d be an idiot to go to Edison over Dalton,” Sebastian had said. “Is this seriously why you called me?”

“Maybe I wanted some support.”

“I’ll give you support when you make less ridiculous decisions,” Sebastian had said. He’d meant it as a joke.

Blaine hadn’t seen it as one. “Fine,” Blaine had spat. “I don’t know why I even bothered to call.” He hung up.

He’ll call back once he’s cooled down, Sebastian thought. But Blaine didn’t call, and a year passed, and then two—

“Listen,” Sebastian said. “I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me about whatever, okay?” His fingers curled around his coffee. “It doesn’t matter how stupid it is.”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And I really am sorry.”

Blaine was startled enough to laugh. “About what?” 

Sebastian drank his coffee. It really wasn’t that good—acidic and bitter at the same time. “That you don’t swim anymore. Not after what happened at Edison.” He put the cup down. “I really miss swimming with you, Blaine.”

* * *

Weeks passed. Sebastian didn’t go back to the Lima Bean. Blaine didn’t try to contact him either. Sebastian spent his free days in practice, swimming until his muscles ached. He snuck out to Scandals a few times before Wes found out and informed him that if he was going to get drunk, he was doing it under supervision and introduced him to David, Junior Varsity Captain, who also happened to have the largest collection of illicit goods ever held in a Dalton dorm.

Stroke after stroke, the days passed until August arrived, and with it the Columbus Summer Tournament.

* * *

“Have you seen my goggles?”

“Have you seen my swim cap?”

“Have you seen my swimsuit?”

“How the hell did all of you guys manage to lose the swim gear you use literally every day?” Wes demanded, surveying the sheepish boys before him. At least Trent and Nick looked sheepish. Thad looked too harassed to manage a sheepish expression, but he was also missing his swimsuit.

“I didn’t forget anything,” Sebastian offered from where he was standing with his gym bag packed.

“Are you that excited to see Blaine?” Trent asked as he found his goggles in a random pocket of his gym bag. “You’re like a puppy.”

“Please.” Sebastian’s nose crinkled in affront. “I’m not a _puppy_.”

“A poodle,” Nick offered, happy to offer his input. Jeff was out on a family vacation, and it meant that he was missing his usual comedy partner. “They’re water dogs, you know.”

“Are they?” Thad asked, interestedly.

“Yeah.”

“What does this have to do with the swim meet?” Sebastian demanded.

“Hey,” Thad said. “Chill. We’re blowing off steam.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes even as they dumped their stuff in the lockers at the Columbus natatorium. “Can you blow off steam in ways that don’t involve bad analogies?”

“Somebody’s cranky,” Trent observed.

“I’m not cranky.”

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” Nick chimed in.

“God!”

Wes chuckled. “Just ignore them, Sebastian.” He jerked his head at the door. “I’ll go check on when we’re competing. Trent, you want me to see which heat you’re in?”

“Yeah, could you? Thanks” By some fluke of scheduling, Trent’s match was on the same day as theirs. They had carpooled, and he had promised to also cheer as loudly as possible when the rest of them were competing in the medley relay.

Wes stepped out. Through the door, they heard his startled, “Oh! Blaine.”

“Blaine?” Sebastian echoed. He hurried out—

Blaine was standing with Wes. Nearby, the rest of the McKinley swim team watched them suspiciously. “Hey,” he said weakly when he saw Sebastian.

“Hey.” His throat was dry. He cleared it. “You here with them?” Sebastian asked.

“Yeah.”

Wes eyed them. “I’m going to go check on our events. You okay, Blaine? Sebastian?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said. He didn’t look away from Sebastian. “It’s good to see you, Wes.”

“Don’t be a stranger.” Wes clapped him on the shoulder. “We missed you this summer.”

“Yeah,” he said, weakly.

“Let’s go, Blaine,” Kurt called from where he was standing with the McKinley folks.

“You go ahead,” Blaine said. “I’ll be right there.”

They waited until the McKinley team walked away, Kurt glaring at Sebastian and a brunette girl giving them suspicious looks before grabbing Kurt by the shoulder and whispering furiously into his ear.

“They seem charming,” Sebastian said.

“Let’s not be sarcastic,” Blaine replied.

“Alright.”

They stood in silence before they said, at the same time, “Hey—”

“You go ahead,” Blaine said.

“No,” Sebastian shook his head, “you go.”

Blaine looked away. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how you found out about Edison—”

“I blackmailed Trent into telling me.”

“You blackmailed… what? You can’t _do_ that, Sebastian!”

“I’m pretty sure I did. Anyways it’s all in the past now.”

“I can’t believe. Seriously?”

“I’ve got folders of blackmail. Trent’s just happens to be larger than most. But you were saying.”

Blaine blinked, rapidly. “Okay. We’re going to get back to you blackmailing my friends.”

“Our friends.”

“Fine. Our friends. But I—I didn’t tell you about Edison because I thought you’d be smug and obnoxious about it, because you’re always smug and obnoxious—”

“I prefer charming.”

“ _Smug_ and _obnoxious_ ,” Blaine repeated. “I know you wouldn’t, but—”

“Blaine,” Sebastian interrupted. “It’s okay.”

“I would have told you,” Blaine blurted. “I just didn’t want you to think less of me, if I couldn’t swim.”

Sebastian froze.

“The PT was pretty hard,” Blaine admitted. “I wasn’t sure if I’d recover.”

“Do you seriously think that I would have hated you if you couldn’t swim?”

“Swimming’s your _life_ ,” Blaine argued. “You love swimming.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, incredulous “But we aren’t friends because you’re good at swimming. We’re friends because I like hanging out with you. We’re friends because you’re fun and laugh at my jokes, even if you pretend they’re awful.”

“They are awful.”

“They really are,” Sebastian agreed. “Anyways, I wanted to swim with you because you’re my best friend, Blaine. I came back to Ohio because _you’re_ here. Because even if you haven’t talked to me for two years, that doesn’t change my feelings for you.”

Blaine stared.

“I’ve liked you since the first time we swam together.” Sebastian said. “And even if we aren’t swimming together today, I want you to know that you’ll always have a spot with us.”

* * *

For a community tournament, the tension was palpably high. It was almost as palpable as the chlorine rising from the pool in a familiar stench.

“Public pools,” Sebastian said.

“We know,” Wes interrupted. “We’re up next, boys.”

“Right,” Nick muttered.

“Sure,” Thad agreed.

Sebastian offered a half-hearted thumbs up, muttering “public pools” under his breath as they filed out. Standing at the side of the pool with his teammates beside him, Sebastian felt the tension that had been following him all day ease.

“Ready?” Wes asked.

They nodded in familiar unison. 

He looked them over. “We’ve trained hard. Whatever result we get, as long as we’re proud of it, then we’ve won.”

“So don’t lose,” Thad concluded.

“Otherwise it’s laps for whoever’s time is worst,” Nick chimed in tones of an all-too familiar mantra. “Wait. Sebastian’s swimming butterfly, there’s no way he’s going to have the worst time.”

“Your fault for picking backstroke,” Sebastian retorted. From the corner of his eye, he caught the McKinley team filing to their positions, Blaine among them. He was talking to Kurt in a low voice, shaking his head. His face was drawn in frustration.

“What are you staring… oh. Blaine.”

“What’s that tone, Harwood?”

Thad had exasperation as an expression down pat. “The only thing that’d distract you from a swim meet _would_ be Blaine.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes back as places were called. Nick dropped into the water for his backstroke lap. As the rest of them lined up, he glanced over at McKinley’s spot again. Blaine had drawn back to the wall, but he recognized the gaze that Blaine was directing towards Kurt.

Covetous.

Sebastian paused. Blaine was looking towards Gayface Hummel, but he wasn’t looking _at_ him. Instead, his gaze was directed at the water.

The whistle blew.

In the middle of the splashing and the crowd cheering, Sebastian found himself very still. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Blaine, and Blaine, sensing his gaze, looked up.

“Sebastian,” Wes began, “what are you doing?”

It only took four quick strides to make it to where Blaine was standing.

“Sebastian?”

“Swim with me,” he said.

“Sebastian, get back here,” Wes hissed.

“Sebastian, what are you talking about?” Blaine laughed. “You should get back in position—”

“Forget about Hummel. He doesn’t know you if he thinks you want to just stand at the side of the pool and stare at him adoringly. Swim with us,” he interrupted. “Nick and Thad, me and you.”

“What about Wes?”

“He’ll understand.” Sebastian reached forward, one stroke pulling him closer and closer. “You love swimming. I know you do. And I love swimming with you. Let’s do it again. One more time, for old time’s sake.”

In the pool, Nick slapped the wall and Thad dived in to start the breast stroke lap.

“Sebastian,” Wes hissed. “You’re up next.”

Blaine shook his head.

“Just think about it,” he said. “Alright? Think about it.”

Wes studied him as he went back into position. In the water, Thad flipped and was making his way back. There was a narrow but noticeable lead between him and McKinley’s athlete, a blond guy named Sam. “What was that about?”

Sebastian shrugged, stepping up to the edge of the pool. “I think you know.”

Wes grinned back. “Yeah.”

“So you’re cool with it?”

Wes shrugged back. “What’s a small community tournament to me? I’ve got my scholarship to Yale already.”

“Nobody likes a show off,” Sebastian said, as Thad touched the wall and he dived in.

* * *

The water was silent. At the moment when you dive down into it, at the moment when you pass from air into the embrace of water, all sound becomes muffled, to the point where all you can hear is your heart, a steady beat. The cool of the water draws the heat away from muscles, leaving you cradled by it, and all you can do is move: your hips and legs in unison, your shoulders drawn down and back and steady stroke after steady stroke. 

Sebastian burst from the water in a sweeping butterfly swing, and in that moment outside the water, he heard everything clearly.

The splash of the water. The shout of the crowd.

Blaine’s voice, younger. “See you tomorrow?”

He dove back into the water. Five years ago, before Sebastian had moved to Paris, he had competed in this very same tournament. He’d swum butterfly in the individual event, placing a respectable silver after going up against a boy a year older and well into puberty. And after the individual events, he had found himself back on the edge of the pool, arms around Blaine and Thad, Nick across from him.

“Ready?” Blaine had asked, all wide-eyed excitement.

“Ready,” they had chorused back.

Nick had started, with his still maturing backstroke. He was fast, but not fast enough to compete with the other middle school boys, not when some of them were going into high school next year. Thad came up next, steady and catching up.

Then, Sebastian had gone.

Sebastian flipped as he reached the wall and started back. Two lanes down, Kurt Gayface Hummel kept pace with him.

Five years ago, when he reached the wall and slapped it, he had looked down instead of up.

This time, he looked up, and as Blaine dived into the pool in a perfectly practiced arc, Sebastian’s heart thudded behind his ribs. He found himself frozen, clinging to the edge with the tips of his fingers, staring after the sight of Blaine, swimming in the water as if he was meant to be there.

Wes leaned down and offered him a hand.

“Guess he likes swimming, after all,” Sebastian managed through harsh breaths.

Wes patted him on the back. “He likes _you_.”

Sebastian closed his eyes, and he could see the point where he ended and the moment when Blaine began—the microseconds when they overlapped: when Blaine started his jump, just as Sebastian was reaching for the wall. 

He thought he could call that love.

* * *

They won the race, but were disqualified for entering an illegal team member.

“We should have just listed Blaine in our registration paperwork,” Sebastian groused.

Thad pointed out, “You’re just mad because you wanted to win.”

“Who could have guessed that Sebastian would have talked Blaine into swimming again,” Trent said. “Boy, I was not expecting that.”

Sebastian sighed. “Whatever. We proved our superiority over McKinley—”

“I was in it for the prize money,” Nick said.

“—and Blaine’s back with us—”

“I actually think he’s with the McKinley team right now,” Thad added.

“—so it was a resounding success,” Sebastian concluded. “Right?” he added through gritted teeth.

The others exchanged familiar looks.

“Sebastian?” Blaine said.

Sebastian turned. Blaine was standing there, a gym bag in hand, alone. He smiled, awkwardly. “Do you think we can talk?”

Sebastian glanced behind him, but there was nobody from McKinley there. “Yeah.”

“Alone?”

Sebastian glanced at the others, who shrugged back. “Sure.”

They found an alcove. Outside, the crowd churned, nebulous and persistent. In this small alcove, it was just them, as if they were cradled by water. They stood there, silent and waiting.

Blaine took a deep breath. “Sebastian, did you mean it, when you said that today?”

Sebastian blinked. “I meant every word I said. But you’re going to have to be more exact.”

“That you’ve liked me since the first time we swam together.”

“Oh.” Sebastian sighed. There was a glib response on his tongue, but suddenly it was important for him to be honest. It was important that he didn’t say anything like what he said two years ago. It was important that he didn’t drive Blaine away. “Yeah. I meant it.”

Blaine swallowed. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Sebastian shrugged. “You know me.” He looked down. “Hear me out.”

Blaine said nothing.

“I do like you. You’re smart and talented and hardworking and I’ve always loved swimming with you. And you have a great ass—don’t look at me like that, Blaine, I can recognize your assets. We’ve known each other since we were kids. It might have just been swim club together, but you know it’s been more. We didn’t have to talk every single day after swim club. We could have just ignored each other while we waited for our parents.”

“I think I tried,” he quipped.

“Couldn’t resist my charming personality for long,” Sebastian replied, and Blaine laughed. He continued, “But that’s… that’s just liking you. I like plenty of people, Blaine. But like—I was wrong when I said that I like you.”

Blaine swallowed.

“Five years ago, before I left, we competed in this tournament, remember?”

“I remember.”

“There was a moment—that moment when my lap ends and yours begins. There’s that moment when we’re both swimming at the same time: when you’re diving and I haven’t touched the wall yet.”

“Yeah, I know the rules.”

“I looked down, five years ago,” Sebastian said. “I think I knew what would happen if I looked up. I knew I was moving to Paris by then. I was scared of what it would mean, if I looked up and then moved to Paris.”

Blaine said, very quietly, “What are you talking about, Sebastian?”

“I looked up today.” Sebastian’s hands clenched. “I looked up and I saw you, and I saw that moment. That moment when we’re no longer separate, but we’re conjoined.”

Blaine covered his mouth with a hand.

“I don’t know what I have to do for us to have that moment again. Over and over. A thousand times. I don’t think ‘like’ covers it.”

“No,” Blaine said. “It doesn’t.”

Sebastian reached out, a single stroke, and Blaine met him so their hands touched, and in that moment, blanketed by the quiet of the water, they were together.

Blaine said, “We can call it love.”

* * *

“I told you so,” Sebastian said smugly the next week, when orientation for the new year started and Blaine was there with everybody else. “We defeated McKinley, and Blaine’s back with us?”

“What did you say,” Trent said, attempting to affect a sour tone and unable to. “Gloating being unbecoming?”

“Not if I’m doing it,” Sebastian retorted. “Hey there, Killer.”

Blaine shook his head. “Why do you call me that?”

“You’re like a killer shark,” Sebastian said. “Have you seen you swim? And that ass? That’s a weapon on its own.”

“Sharks have an undeserved reputation and really are harmless creatures,” Blaine retorted.

“Exactly. Just like you.”

Blaine rolled his eyes.

Trent said, “So, how did Kurt take it?”

“What do you mean?”

“He seemed pretty upset that you swam with us.”

Blaine grimaced. “Yeah. He was.” He sighed. “He really is talented, you know. I was happy to help out with McKinley over the summer.”

“So, have you guys broken up?”

“What?”

“You and Kurt?” Trent said. “Isn’t that why you spent all summer with him? Because you were dating?”

“What?” Blaine stared at him. “Kurt and I are friends. I mean, yeah, we dated a few times, but I was helping out at McKinley because they didn’t have a coach for the summer and I was still trying to get back to competition shape after going through PT—that’s why I wasn’t in the pool with everybody last year; I was doing PT in the morning and afternoons and too tired to do regular practice with everybody. Coach agreed and everything—he said it would be good experience to work as a coach. Why do you think I got to stand poolside during the tournament?”

“So you weren’t dating?” Trent asked, looking bewildered.

“I think this has all been a horrible misunderstanding,” Sebastian said loudly. 

“You thought Kurt and I were dating?”

“Let’s just get our schedules and go say hi to Coach, why don’t we?”

“Did you _know_ this, Sebastian?” Trent shouted as they walked away.

Blaine frowned up at him. “You totally knew,” he accused.

“I figured it out when I went to Coach to ask why he let you bail on summer swim camp,” Sebastian admitted. 

“And you didn’t tell Trent?”

“He’ll get over it,” Sebastian said airily. “It’s only what he deserves after telling that story about you being seduced away by a mediocre butterfly swimmer when you could have me.”

“I seem to remember being pretty mad at you when I was being seduced away by Kurt.”

He waved a hand in the air. “Anyways, Killer.”

“My name is Blaine.”

“Guess who’s transferring into Dalton this year and just so happens to be sharing a room with you?”

“Did you bribe Jeff to switch with you?”

Sebastian tapped his lips. “A gentleman never tells.”

“Good thing you aren’t a gentleman,” Blaine retorted, and pulled him into an alcove. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get away with this.”

And, away in their own world, Blaine and Sebastian shared a quiet kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Mika, who really caused this whole mess. Also thanks to Ellie who listened to an entire evening worth of me complaining about how this story was making no sense.
> 
> I ground my way through 3500 words of awful writing because I made the mistake of writing this story from Blaine's POV. Once I switched to Sebastian's POV, everything was easy and zany, because the story I wanted to tell was Sebastian's story, and not Blaine's. 
> 
> I wrote this story in <24 hours, which is to say that I realized that I had made a mistake and the story was supposed to be in Sebastian's POV at about 3AM, scrapped everything (all 3500 words) that I had written, and started fresh. It is now 1AM.
> 
> I may go back in and polish this later. Or maybe I'll just let it exist as an example of my writing when I rush.
> 
>  
> 
> comments and kudos always appreciated!
> 
> enjoyed this? [reblog on tumblr](https://virdant.tumblr.com/post/176799674781/fic-glee) | [retweet on twitter](https://twitter.com/virdant/status/1027472080940363776)  
> want to talk writing? [follow me on tumblr](https://virdant.tumblr.com/) | [follow me on twitter](https://twitter.com/virdant)


End file.
